


Crocodile Rock

by coffeecrowns



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alligators & Crocodiles, Alternate Universe, Disability, Florida AU, Fluff and Angst, Food, Idiots in Love, Magic Realism, Matchmaking asshole crocodiles, Mostly Fluff, Multi, Romance, Slow Burn, Texting, They work in a zoo together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecrowns/pseuds/coffeecrowns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Elliot talks to crocodiles (who talk back), puts himself back together again and again, and falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crocodile Rock

**Author's Note:**

> I've only been to Florida once. We bought oranges at Walmart and they were the best oranges I've ever eaten. 
> 
> That and a lot of Magic Realism are the inspirations for this.

When Elliot Spencer is six, he has a school trip to the swamps. He gets separated from the group, and starts hearing a soft, growly voice from some mangroves.

 

He makes the first decision that changes his life; he follows the sound of it.

 

Up and over some logs, he spots a mama crocodile, sitting on her eggs. The croc looks at him, and she blinks slowly. “Alright little one, my babies aren’t hungry yet, so you can come sit over here with me for a while.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Elliot says, already moving towards the mama.

 

The little area around her eyes, where eyebrows would be on a person, raise a little bit.

 

“Do you understand me, little one?” The mama croc asks.

 

“Yes ma’am. My name is Elliot though.”

 

He plops down on a log beside the mama, not quite close enough to touch. But his mum always says if he gets lost, find a nice looking with lady, hopefully with kids. He’s doing that.

 

“And I’m Candence, little one.” The momma says after a pause. “Why don’t you tell me how you ended up here?”

 

“I’m lost,” he says, lower lip quivering.

 

“Oh, none of that,” Candence says, lying her tail on his feet. “Just stay here, your humans can find you if you stay put.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The two of them talk for over an hour. Elliot talks about how he momma bakes biscuits with him, and Candence tells him about how she’ll teach her babies to hunt. Elliot tells her about the stories he can read. Then Candance tells him something that will one day safe his life.

 

“Life is lonely for us, Little Elliot. So lonely, in fact, we’ll take a good conversation over a meal. I’m good at killing things. Less good at talking to them.”

 

“I’ll talk to every crocodile I met Mrs. Candance,” Elliot promises.

“Oh, Little Elliot, I hope you do,” Candance says, with a smile that shows all her teeth. Elliot thinks it’s amazing.

 

Then they hear the ranger calling his name, so he runs out to meet him.

 

“Elliot!” cries out Mrs. Martin. “I was so worried! You can’t run off darling, you might meet a crocodile! They’d gobble you right up!”

 

“Rude,” he hears Candence say, from somewhere out in the swamp. Mrs. Martin just pales. He’s ushered out of the swamp, meets up with his class, and they go home.

 

The day in the swamp is a story he doesn’t tell for a very long time, but he never forgets. He can never forget, because what he’s learnt keeps coming up.

 

-

 

That's really the only story from his childhood worth telling.

 

-

 

His time in the army sends him all sorts of places. His time in the Marines sends him to even weirder ones. Then, once in Special Ops, almost everywhere he goes has at least one crocodile.

 

“You know what makes a croc a croc?” Smith asks while they’re on watch in the blistering Madagascar heat. “They’re more vicious than a gator or anything else.” Smith has what used to be a Jersey accent.

 

Smith is right of course. But he’s a Special Op agent, and he does what is needed for, well, he isn’t always sure who its for. He’s no longer naïve, but he is still loyal. Still loyal.

 

So he finds himself, not yet twenty years after his first conversation with Candance, seeking out crocs. Information, jokes, riddles, stories. Crocs just want to talk, and its so refreshing it hurts.

 

He feels something akin to kinship, he’s racked up a kill count, and he just sometimes needs a friend.

 

Another thing in common with crocs, his friends tend to get shot.

 

He gets to talk to crocs wherever he goes. He recognizes the species on sight, just another survival instinct, its just an off book how he’s getting through today.

 

 _Cataphractus_ tend to like knock knock jokes. _Philippine_ want him to spill his heart to them, and they’ll spill back. _Moreletil’s_ are fans of riddles. _Palustris_ just like to gossip. He has a giant, four to five meter, 900 kilogram ally who are just expected to be around. Everyone involved gets a good deal. (If he feels less crushing loneliness on solo missions well, good for him).

 

Time passes quickly.

 

He spends almost twelve years in combat. Three weeks after his thirtieth birthday, he’s shot in the shoulder. Doug the Saltwater Croc is his only friend who leaves the scene alive, at least, Elliot thinks and hopes and prays he lives.

 

The shoulder is ruined; he’ll never go back to the military. He’ll never do a lot of things again. Depression has never been a luxury he’s been able to afford, but suddenly he’s got endless time and nothing to do. It creeps up on him.

 

He gets an apartment in Orlando, does his physio, his groceries one handed, and sees his therapist. The food he makes is tasteless, vaguely reminiscent of MRE’s. He learns the exact look to make people look away when he’s really struggling at Walmart. Dr. Kaller says he should get out of the house. He starts a community college biology course. Starts a Saturday morning group therapy. Things snowball from there.

-

 

He learns to be good at what he does. Grows a relationship between him and a croc. The ones who are in rehab, who grew up in the swamps, have heard his name, they trust him on sight. He looses himself in his work. He doesn’t call his parents, he finds routines. He does his physio because if he keeps his shoulder strong, it doesn’t hurt too bad. He’ll never take pain meds, and his therapist agrees it’s not the best for him _right now_. It gives new purpose to his physio too.

 

He starts building trust with his crocs and starts plays with them. Everyone thinks he’s gone crazy, but no one gets hurt. For once, it feels like his head is on straight. Soon it becomes a routine at the Florida Central Zoo. Which is why he gets to finally meet the owner of the zoo about Showy Gator Wrestling.

 

The owner is Damien Monreau. Who becomes another thing he doesn’t talk about it.

 

Two years after, with his city disappearing in his rearview mirror, he feels gutted. But all his possessions fit into the back his truck, and it isn’t like he can’t put himself together again.

 

-

On his first day at the Tampa Reptile Zoo, he runs into Parker. She’s wearing sensible jeans and short-sleeved button up flannel patterned shirt. Her long blonde hair done up in a bun, bangs falling cutely in her face. And she’s holding a boa constrictor, surrounded by tiny children.

 

Basically, he's in love with her instantly.

 

She wears a gorgeous engagement ring around her neck. His heart sinks down. Well, its not like he ever had a chance with her anyways.

 

Still, his crocodiles are right beside her snakes. The zoo is done up like a mini jungle, with little bridges and walkways everywhere. Parker likes to perch up places, and handles all of her snakes whenever possible. How the owner doesn’t have a problem with it, Elliot isn’t sure. Nate Ford, his boss just says he likes the animals, and he hired the best for a reason. It must look cool to have people walking around with reptiles that can causally kill you. 

 

He knows the name Nate Ford, and he’s seen picture of Parker with some scary snakes. He’s read about Alec Hardison, a veterinarian who is brilliant, he gets the point of Sophie is that he _doesn't_ know her name. But he doesn’t count himself among them.

 

So he takes a step back from the people he works with, and befriends and earns the trust of his crocs. Martha is the top croc, and she and him become fast friends. He has to read the new Alice Munro story each time there’s a new one, because that what Martha likes. Gregson is a cutie, he’s the smallest, and he just likes to be around the kids. Cuddly sucker. Illya is always grumpy; Christopher likes to hear about soap operas. Cyclops is the appropriately named one eye, hyperactive Cuban Croc. Phineas tells the same two knock knock jokes over again. Chloe just wants to wrestle. He does not want to wrestle.

 

Life is just a zoo, he's alone, with a crush that he can't imagine will end well. Its just like Orlando, except his group therapy is Sunday afternoon now. 

 

-

 

The surprising thing is that Parker actually shows interest in him.

 

She looks at him and rolls her eyes when huge school groups with kids come in. If someone asks him a particularly dumb question, she’ll snicker loud enough to try and throw him off. When there’s no kids around and no animals loose, she’ll jump right on to him then use his height to climb on to the next level of the zoo.

 

They arguably have way too much fun.

 

“Its not like we need you humans anyways,” Martha tells him.

 

IIlya says, “In general as well as in the zoo.”

 

Parker comes by a pokes him in the arm until he says ‘stop’.

 

-

 

On Sunday they talk about little victories. 

 

-

 

One morning, “Twenty minutes till show time!” calls Sophie, who is the PR lady and Nate’s not-so-secret lover and also inexplicably British.

 

“Get your adorable murder-lizards all ready to go!” Sophie says, looking down on his fictional swamp from a rope bridge, clipboard in hand.

 

From off to the side, he hears the first words from Alec Hardison, Parker’s fiancée: “Sophie, get the stick out of your ass and stop harassing my man!” Then Hardison yells down at Elliot, “I think you have the best murder lizards in all of Florida!”

 

Elliot is stunned for a moment or two. But assholes who snark at him is love at first sight as far as he’s concerned. Goddamnit, he likes _both of them._

Instead he yells back, “Y’all can all name each species, can we not call them _murder-lizards!”_

 

Before anyone can say anything else, Gregson curls up with Chloe, Chloe misunderstands, and takes a chunk out of Gregson.

 

He is a special ops agent; he doesn’t react in panic or anything. “Damnit Chloe!” he says, more exasperated than anything else.

 

“Oops,” Chloe says, and then backs off the situation.

 

“Did you just stop a murder-lizard with your voice?” Hardison asks in disbelief.

 

“Damnit Hardison.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Parker snickers.

 

“Did you say ‘y’all’?” asks Sophie, in her indignant voice.

 

“We’re a regular cliché!”

 

He doesn’t start laughing because that would be ridiculous and he almost blew the whole, “I talk to crocodiles” thing and-

 

-

 

That would have been the end of it, except Hardison is the vet, which means because of Chloe he gets to spend exponentially greater time with him.

 

“I did it all for you,” Chloe claims. “The sacrifices I made for love!” (He’s sure she gets the dramatics from Sophie).

 

“You aren’t allowed to assault anyone for the sake of my love life or I swear-“

 

“Fiiineeeeee,” Chloe says, dragging out all the vowels. “I won’t hurt anyone not matter how annoyingly love sick-“

 

“love sick?”

 

“-a _nnoyingly_ love sick you get, if you bring me in lobster.”

 

“What are you going to do with lobster?”

 

“Eat it, duh.”

 

“Why do you want to eat lobster?”

 

“I don’t, you just need to learn to cook food that will woo them!”

 

“Okay, that’s enough!”

 

“I’m serious, I’ll go after a kid next!”

 

(Somewhere in his mind he’s glad no one knows how much pushing that button actually hurts.)

 

Somehow, he finds himself standing in a farmers market. He won’t give his ‘murder-lizards’ any lobster with weird chemicals. He ends up talking with the guy in the stall for two hours about everything you need to know about cooking to woo people.

 

There’s a moment where the farmer is staring at him, explaining chocolate tomatos to him and stops suddenly to say, “You’re military right?”

 

“Yeah,” he says. “Special Ops.”

 

“What’s the first thing you did once you got back to Florida?”

 

The real answer there is a depressive spiral, followed by a very small mental breakdown, followed by taking his first shower in six days, deciding to grow out his hair and walking over to Walmart.

 

The most pleasant memory of the first month though, was eating an orange. It was sweet, a little tart and juicy. He didn’t remember much history, but he remembers oranges being a celebratory food for thousands of years.

 

The farmer, Joel, looked at him with a little grin, “Normally, I don’t teach people to cook to just court someone. But somehow I’m not worried about you.”

 

He buys a cast iron skillet, some fresh herbs and butter because he doesn’t actually have any. Though he’s got a ways to go, but he’s pretty impressed by what a little cream sauce with dill on salmon and irish potato pancakes does to his mood.

 

The Sunday afternoon group therapy at the VA is thrilled.

 

-

 

He’s standing across from the other man, with Gregson on the examination table between them. Gregson is unconscious, but everything is fine. Alec has patched up the bite right below Gregson’s left shoulder.

 

They’re talking about everything under the sun. He stops hating his time in the vet’s lab. Hardison, Alec, he talks about his experiments, papers he’s written, combining his two favourite things: technology and ‘murder-lizards’.

 

“I feel like I live in a Jurassic Park prequel,” Alec says.

 

“That would be very cool,” Parker says.

 

“The three of us together might stand a chance,” he says, slowly.

 

Does he hate how they look so damn happy when he plays along, except he isn’t playing. He doesn’t want to be playing.

 

He makes a perfectly dignified escape, and goes to tell Martha all about it.

 

Martha says, “You wouldn’t have run if you didn’t like them back.”

 

He hates crocodiles.

 

-

 

Parker is the Snake Lady, and Archie retires, leaving her without a Crocodile Man. It’s the Tampa Reptile Zoo, they need a good guy in charge of the crocodiles. Then they hire Elliot Spencer, and she decides she didn’t even know how much better life could be.

 

He’s a vet, not the way Alec is, a war vet. He’s got a bum shoulder, a stride that says, “Don’t fuck with me,” and he’s perpetually grumpy. She’s not going to make any snap judgments about his ability to handle the crocs, people tend to underestimate her. She likes him; he’s fun to wind up, like an older brother. He certainly answers her questions, but when he does his grump thing, and she does her cheerful-while-holding-a –giant-snake, it feels more like their flirting than anything else.

 

Except she doesn't want him to be an older brother. She wants to take his sweet ass out to brunch. She wants to stick him in the middle of their bed. She wants to hold his pretty hair and sit on his face. 

 

Meanwhile, Hardison is in love with him. Hardison and her have been together years; she knows when he’s into someone. She’s used to that someone being her, but hey, her day job is working with venomous snakes and dealing with tiny children. She has her fun when times are tough.

 

But Elliot meshes with them. She’s a fan of her slippery, clever ways, and Hardison’s deep knowledge, and good humour. But she likes Elliot. Hardison likes Elliot. Elliot is the stabilizing point to them.

 

She talks to Sophie about it.

 

Sophie tells her she can date both and to try a double shot vanilla bean frappachino.

 

The second piece of advice is easy. Her and Alec stop by the Starbucks on the way home. The first piece is a lot harder. She’s got her boyfriend with his arm around her on the bed. His head tucked under her chin.

 

“Babe,” she says, getting his attention.

 

“Yeah?” he says sleepily.

 

“You like Elliot, right?” She asks.

 

“Our very own Gator GI Jones?” Hardison starts to say.

 

“You like him,” she states. Parker can see his blush on the back of his neck.

 

“Don’t be mad?” He says, like a question. “Girl, I love you, but I like him as well. He just.”

 

“He’s Elliot,” Parker says.

 

Then, in a very soft voice, Alec says, “Yeah. He’s our Elliot.”

 

“Out Elliot,” she echoes. Parker likes the sound of that. “Now we just need to tell him that.”

 

“We should probably start with dating.”

 

And while they plan, to phone flashlights on the bed like little kids, things start falling into place. They fall asleep hearts singing and excited for what the morning would bring.

 

-

 

Elliot has developed a routine. He wakes up at five in the morning, runs, and spends his time with his physio exercises. Six am he showers, six fifteen he’s making breakfast, scrambled eggs with ricotta and green onions, multigrain cranberry toast with crunchy peanut butter. He’s in his car by seven thirty, and his with Martha by 8.

 

Martha was born in captivity, and Elliot tells her all the stories about the crocs he’s met over the years. Martha is currently building her nests, and she’s going to be laying her eggs. They’re friends because Elliot doesn’t treat her like she’s stupid, and because he lets her know all the things her babies don’t have to be.

 

He normally has two hours to get what needs doing done, and it doesn’t take him too long. He feeds everyone, and then spends twenty minutes playing with Chloe. Normally, that’s about as much as his shoulder can take, sometimes it’s a big less, never more.

 

Alec, Hardison, likes to be around “Just in Case” and its not like Elliot can tell him that he’s befriended more crocodiles than people, and not just because that’s sad.

 

Except Hardison has gone a made the three of them a group chat. (The idea was Parker’s)

 

Someone changes the name every two hours or not for two weeks. And he would scroll through his other texts to find his and Alec’s conversation, except the damn group chat is always going.

 

Parker sends pictures of interesting things her snakes are doing, and she sends rhetorical questions like, “What do you mean, rude soccer mum, do you think this is a petting zoo?” and “Why is mint chocolate chip ice cream have hard pieces of frozen chocolate ?” which means Alec is going to send back some stupid meme in response like “#thanksobama” and he doesn’t find it annoying he thinks its endearing.

 

“Martha says you’re annoying.” He’ll write in. Or “Alec, remind Gregson crocodile cuddles are dangerous.”

 

At which point they remind him his job is at least 30% cuddling crocodiles.

 

“It’s a very distinctive cuddle” he writes back.

 

He gets two texts at the same time, “I just rolled my eyes, I want you to know that.” From Alec and “same” from Parker.

 

-

 

Another part of his job is staring at Parker, and he knows how creepy it sounds, he hates himself for how creepy it _is_ but-

 

Its one part heart attack, watching her in her element. She’s so good with snakes. The little tiny garter and corn snakes which she lets kids hold. She talks to her venomous guys who rarely leave the cage. He can tell she doesn’t expect an answer back though. Watching her with a boa though, it feels a little bit like sin. She loves freely these cold-blooded reptiles and she makes terrible jokes and is so excited.

 

But yeah, he’s also become best friends with her fiancée. So there’s that.

 

-

 

Alec thinks he’s a genius for the group chat thing. Like he’s a genius for other things, but computers make sense. Murder-reptile biology makes sense. Making Paker happy isn’t easy but so worth it. Elliot Spencer has the most frustrating mind Alec has ever seen.

 

So his next brilliant idea is getting Parker to get Sophia to give them Elliots address so he can suggest a carpool. The real reason he loves Parker is because she agrees that’s the best way to go about this.

 

Parker says, “its bc you luv us!!”

 

Elliot says, “therapy makes me too tired to argue,”

 

Parker says, “ill take it!”

 

Anyways, the devils in the details, within twenty hours Elliot is driving them to work for Monday.

 

 

-

 

Somehow, his kitchen is filling up with cookbooks. He gets a Gordon Ramsay one but apparently they have different ideas on how much a serving is, and long story short, on Sunday night, he fires off a text to what is currently “ Alec luvs bees”

 

“I’m bringing you lunch tomorrow.”

 

“Aw yes, Mr I grow all my food”

 

“good”

 

The whole drive to work they’re trying to figure out what he’s made for them. Its like twenty questions but full of innuendos and mostly joking threats.

 

The rosemary-dijon chicken is delicious and they commandeer the microwave to heat the three glass containers Elliot brought in. Parker licks the bowl.

 

He watches them eat (not that weird) and thinks about how much he loves them. He likes taking care of them. It makes the weird reptilian part of his brain Alec goes on about happy. That’s all.

 

All the day Martha is smirking at him. He just bares his teeth back, and thinks about Alec’s little moans. Illya and Chris go at in front of some kids. Parker’s voice in his head says, “This is why snakes are superior.” A minute later he gets a text saying the same thing.

 

On the way home they’re getting eighties music and impromptu karaoke. He’s ignoring the bedroom eyes they’re giving each other, and instead thinks about a text from a while back.

 

He drops them off at their apartment, then is off to the farmers market. He’s going to make the smoothest damn mint chip ice cream Parker's ever eaten.

 

-

 

“We’ve been flirting for ages, we just need to fuck him already.” Parker whines.

 

Alec doesn’t really have an argument. “We can’t scare him off,” he sighs.

 

“He doesn’t get scared by crocs or small children or soccer mums.”

 

“Babe, no member of this relationship thinks feelings are easier than an army of any of those.”

 

“We’ll take him skydiving and tell him we love him once we hit the ground!”

 

“Okay, if you ever want me to go skydiving you can’t use words like “hit the ground”.

 

“But that could work.”

 

-

 

Elliot wants to tell them. He spends the weekend trying to figure out what to say. How to bring it up. So he does a little bit of stress baking. Sue him.

 

His sitting on the floor of his kitchen, shoulder Not Happy, with a carrot cake, gingerbread muffins, a few pies and most importantly, Parker’s ice cream in the freezer. He’s stopped because he’s out of flour and he’s shoulder has informed him that it’s done cooperating.

 

Which fine, whatever, he curls up with an ice pack and doesn’t feel sorry for himself.

 

-

He's informed he was missed in group. He just shrugs. Afterwards, privately, Sam asks him if he's okay. "Rough weekend but I'm making it through."

-

 

Parker goes out shooting with Sophie. Sophie doesn’t like zip lining or bungee jumping, and Parker doesn’t like strangers touching her nails.

 

But shooting is excellent. She likes the single minded goals, the efficiency of the weapon, and the rush. She likes knowing Sophie is right beside her but doesn’t have to say anything.

 

Sophie is wonderful. She gives such good advice, and just knows Parker needs to talk about what she needs to talk about.

 

Sophie talks about guns and stupid magazine articles she’s read recently and they get into loud arguments over whether or not a boa constrictor could take down a non-venomous king cobra.

 

People start to leave the Starbucks. Sophie recommends an iced caramel macchiato,to go, because if there’s one thing Sophie has taught her, it’s a lady always knows when to leave.

 

-

 

Hardison finally brings up the scary parts of Elliots job one morning. He’s making a quip about the half-drunk 2 liter orange soda on one of Hardison’s desk.

 

“Please tell me you aren’t staining Gregson’s insides orange?”

 

Gregson hisses, “Not cool,” in agreement.

 

Hardison looks a tiny bit confused, it is seven in the morning and Elliot can recognize that normal people find that early, especially people who don’t caffeinate.

 

(He tries to tell himself that the orange soda thing isn’t adorable but his heart DOESN’T GET THE MESSAGE)

 

“Naw, I doubt it would help with your raptor wrangling,” he says, in a faux southern accent.

 

“Its not wrangling, Chloe just has too much energy,” Elliot says, “She playful.”

 

“I don’t like playing with things that could kill me! I’m squishy!”

 

Elliot would have said, “Then there’s a good chance that you’re in the wrong business.” But instead, Parker dropped from the ceiling into Alec’s office.

 

“You love me, I’m dangerous!” Parker protests.

 

“Babe, I do, but-“

 

“Also, I’m more like crocodiles more than humans.” Parker dropping that bomb made the whole room quiet, save for Gregson’s growled “Yeah, she can join the family.”

 

“You’re also honest about when you’re ready to hurt people?” Elliot half-guesses.

 

Parker smiles at him, the whole world lighting up, meaning he got it right.

 

“Elliot is also like a croc, only communicates in growls,” Alec jokes.

 

Elliot growls without realizing it.

 

“Damnit Hardison,” he says softly.

 

“And I’m like a crocodile because…” Alec trails off the end of the sentence.

 

“Its probably unethical to make a purse out of you,” Parker quips.

 

“Hey, its definitely unethical to make a purse out of crocodiles, endangered species and all,” Elliot says.

 

“I’m also rare,” Hardison says.

 

“How?” Parker jokes, eyebrow raised.

 

“I’m willing to put up with the both of you.”

 

The conversation definitely ends there and not with Gregson breaking up a group hug because they are professionals who don’t spend their prep time cuddling in privacy.

 

-

 

 

Elliot proceeds to have a myriad of bad days. Group therapy is getting annoying, he likes the support, but he feels good, usually. Except his shoulder acts up and he’s cranky and he’s burning food and a school trip is terrible and-

 

On and on it goes.

 

He doesn’t notice Parker noticing.

 

-

 

Hardison goes out for milk one night and comes back to find his fiancée and best friend whom he and the aforementioned fiancée are trying to woo sitting on the couch together with a large Tupperware container of…green?

 

He gets closer to find out that he’s only half right.

 

“Its called the Crocodile,” Parker says as he snuggles up against her.

 

“Mint ice cream with a chocolate ganache swirl because mint ice cream isn’t as nice without chocolate, frozen hard pieces of chocolate are terrible and don’t make any sense flavour wise because the chocolate is too cold to taste and-“

 

“No one likes chocolate ice cream by itself,” Parker interjects.

 

“That is true. Chocolate ice cream is a sad mistake.”

 

“We know,” Elliot and Parker say together.

 

“Do y’all think its strange we’re all obsessed with these murder-lizards?” Alec says after a moment of silence.

 

“We are obsessed with other things too,” Parker says, “Like other murder-reptiles.”

 

“Also food.”

 

“Trying to get me to go skydiving.”

 

“Each other.”

 

“Wait what?” he asks.

 

Hardison face palms. “We like you.”

 

“Like, you like-like me?”

 

“I told you he’d say it!” Parker says.

 

“Damnit Parker.”

 

“Yes, we liked you. We like you a lot, and its not just because you’re smoking hot and badass.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Or because we want to jump your bones.”

 

“Oh”

 

“But, yeah, we love you.”

 

“Oh”

 

“Oh, is right.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Then Hardison gives just a little questioning look at Parker, who raises her head slightly, and then they’re around him, like the softest, nicest cloud of poisonous gas.

 

“Wait” He says.

 

Both of them freeze, and it’s a thousand pound weight off his chest. He takes a deep breath.

 

“I can talk to crocodiles. I’ve survived as long as I have because I can talk to crocodiles. I regularly converse with crocodiles.”

 

There about ten agonizing seconds where no one says anything. Its probably the first time the Hardison-Parker apartment has ever been this quiet, ever.

 

And then Hardison says, “Really?”

 

And Elliot says, “Yeah.”

 

And Parker says, “That’s so cool.”

 

And Hardison says, “That explains so much!”

 

The rest of the evening is spent with him explaining the highlights of his life, without, for once, editing out the crocodiles parts.

 

They cry when they hear about all his dead friends, scaly or not.

 

They reassure him that, no, its still okay, they aren’t going to call him crazy.

 

Eventually, they start little related anecdotes; he learns painful details of Parkers years on the streets, Hardison’s age old money worries. There are cute stories too, Hardison’s Nana actually sounds amazing. Parker has stories that would weird out Special Ops soldiers.

 

It’s long past midnight when Elliot rises, ready to go home.

 

“Stay,” Parker asks. And there’s no reason his brain can supply his racing heart as to why he wouldn’t.

 

“I won’t laugh even if you wear tighty-whites.”

 

“Some men like the support!” Alec argues, already fired up.

 

And the somber air is warm again. They each kiss his cheeks, and he’s sandwiched between them, invisible red-hot lip marks, in a bed the right size for three.

 

-

 

The next morning, they have wild, messy, laughing sex.

 

Once they’re cleaned up, Elliot letting them know he’s got clothes at work in his locker, they’re driving down the interstate. So far, they’re gonna be exactly on time for the afternoon shift. They’ve got two travel mugs of coffee, cream for Elliot, four sugars for Parker and an orange soda for Hardison.

 

“The best part is that no one will find us coming into work together strange.”

 

“I swear to god if you used the ‘global citizen’s care about the environment lecture’ to spend more time with me-“

 

“Its just carpooling!”

 

“How much do you want to bet that Sophie thinks carpooling is a euphemism for crazy monkey sex?”

 

“The fact all of us work in a zoo makes that expression so much more disturbing.”

 

“I just don’t want to take that bet.”

 

-

 

There’s only the tiniest hints to the outside things have changed. Martha gives them looks. Sophie gives them looks. (Both of them find it flattering to be compared to each other). One memorable week Elliot wears a plaid shirt and the next day Parker wears what is obviously the same one. But no one can put a finger on it.

Life, of course, goes on. Sophie discovers the 'secret menu' for Starbucks and suddenly her and Parker are asking for wild things. Hardison releases Gregson, and Alec and Parker get to watch Elliot chew out Chloe. Sam notices Elliot's good mood. 

 Things are just good, no harm in being happy in them. Tampa refuses to be like Orlando, and Elliot refuses to let things turn out like it. 

-

 

Some couples don’t notice a one-month anniversary. Some couples go all out. But they aren’t a couple. They are three couples and one triad and after a month of dating, yes, they do go skydiving.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Sam is Sam Wilson from MCU, who is my fav. 
> 
> Thank you for putting up with this.


End file.
